On the First Day of Christmas
by andallthat
Summary: "Sometimes there were snipers at Kid heists. Conan didn't like it at all. " Conan capturing Snake for Kid during a heist as a Christmas present. Written for Poirot Café's Secret Santa 2015.


Merry Christmas! This is (one of two) of my gifts for Taliya for the Poirot Café's Secret Santa exchange. The other one will be coming later - but in the interest of making sure she got a present in time for the deadline, this happened.

Hope y'all enjoy and Happy New Years! This might just end up as my last fic of 2015.

Rating is solely for language.

* * *

Sometimes there were snipers at Kid heists.

Conan didn't like it at all, but he liked it even less when he learned that these had been happening for a while – since Kid had made a reappearance, Hakuba had noted – and he'd never noticed.

Well, no. That wasn't quite right. It wasn't so much that he'd never noticed, just that he'd never actually been to a Kid heist where the people who were after him actually showed up. For as many bodies liked to fall daily in his presence, this came as a big surprise to Conan.

And probably part of the reason why heists seemed like a sort-of holy ground to him.

But these snipers didn't even show up on the official report. That was suspicious. Mentions of them got removed from the task forces reports, or were mentioned once without any signs of significance at all. That was even more suspicious.

But Conan never really truly understood how badly they wanted Kid dead until that last heist, when the two rivals had met on the rooftop as usual and did their usual dance. A dance that got caught off abruptly by Kid pushing Conan out of the way in a frantic flurry of movement and the bullet that had been intended for his head embedded in the thief's shoulder instead .

Conan never wanted to see crimson red on that suit again.

So instead of worrying himself to death about Kid's well being and that, despite not showing any form of contact with the taskforce or himself Kid was _perfectly fine_ , Conan had come up with a plan.

This plan meant he'd have to wait for another heist where the snipers showed up again, but to ensure that Kid himself or any bystanders wouldn't get killed? It'd be worth it.

Conan had enough of bodies as it was. He wanted to keep Kid's heists out of that, probably as much as Kid himself was inclined to if the 'no one gets hurt' rule was any indication.

It took two heists of Conan missing out on the action and his usual chase before they showed up again. He was a bit irked, since he could have been engaging in a battle of wits with the blasted thief instead of hiding curled up on the rooftop of a museum in the bitter winter cold, but Conan steeled himself. This was far more important than that.

He could see the reflection of a scope shining from one of the adjacent buildings across from his hiding spot, and more than once he was glad he'd reviewed the rooftops schematics – feeling a bit like a thief as he did, since he hadn't exactly asked to see them – and chosen a spot that was undoubtedly shrouded in shadow. The sound of muffled voices from the other side of the rooftop confirmed any last suspicions he'd had, and Conan braced himself.

His hand immediately stuck into his pocket and he sent a pre-programmed message to Megure-keibu about the situation from his phone, as a precaution that Conan was desperately hoping he didn't need, and began sneaking to the other side of the rooftop from the shadows.

Chaos flipped on like a switch downstairs and the not for the first time the noise felt so strange to hear from a distance. Conan felt like one of the onlookers in the crowd outside. Barely ever getting a chance to see the action but cheering and going crazy for the slightest glimpse of white that they got anyway. One of the men – brown hair, ridiculous mustache, looked very much like a killer – scoffed, decidedly not impressed with the antics and he reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

"Stupid animals, all of them."

The man across from him chuckled, all dry humor, "He certainly has a way about running circles around them, doesn't he? That Toichi."

"I don't care about the rabbits, they're worthless. I want the thief, and I want Pandora."

By this point, Conan was ridiculously confused. Who was Toichi? Was that supposed to be Kid? It had to be, if what the men were referring to was any indication, but why did that name seem oddly familiar to him? And what the hell was Pandora supposed to be? The only thing that was immediately coming to mind was that box from Greek mythology.

Conan shook his head to disperse the thoughts. No, it didn't matter. What he needed right now was to catch these guys, so they'd stop shooting at Kid and whatever crimes they've committed would be exposed. All his questions could wait for later, and he could ask Kid those himself. No guarantees for getting an answer, but he infinitely trusted the thief – hah, and wasn't that ironic – then these men any day.

Steeling his breath, Conan felt his heart pound in his ears. They'd either be facing his direction and notice him the moment he poked his head around or they wouldn't, and how quickly he had to take action entirely depended on that. Conan flipped up the lid on his watch and prepared to shoot at a moments notice. He sucked in a breath, and counted to three.

One.

Two.

Three.

Conan threw his head around the corner and was ready to fire in an instant.

No shots came. The men weren't killing at him, they didn't even seem to notice that his head had popped up and he was now in their presence. Their eyes were on the door to the roof, probably waiting for Kid to make his way up here so they could shoot first and ask questions later.

Thank god.

But that wasn't so good for Kid.

Conan walked as close as he could manage without being seen and aimed carefully.

One press of a button and the man whom he'd assumed to be the leader of the two dropped to the floor.

The other one immediately went on high alert.

"Boss? Snake!" he shouted, cocking his gun and turning his head every direction. The other man swung his arms around, trying to figure out where to shoot.

Conan was breathing in through his teeth and desperately hoping he didn't spot him. He'd jumped back into his position under the cover of the wall immediately after firing, but that didn't mean he hadn't seen him.

Heart thrumming in his ears, Shinichi was praying to whatever god would listen that he hadn't seen him.

The moment passed and still no shots were fired.

His shoulders sagged in relief.

"Kid? That's you, isn't it? come out, Kid!" he growled.

Conan knelt down slowly, turning the dial on his shoes and waited. The man swung around again, his back facing Conan, and the detective grabbed a rock from the group and lobbed it at the other side o the roof. The man reacted so fast he should have gotten whiplash. He pointed the gun in that direction and started shooting.

Conan released a soccer ball from his belt.

He aimed. Kicked...

And the man moved at the last second. Instead of nailing him in the face, the soccerball hit his hands with a crack and they gun and ball went flying away... and off of the roof.

He shouted in outrage and pain, curling both of his hands to his chest.

"Fuck this!" he growled, and dropped to his knees beside his boss. Some effort and many curses later and he pulled out a handheld transceiver from the man's jacket pocket, shouting into it.

"Fall back! We're leaving! We'll get him next time, this is bullshit – Snake is down."

And just like that he dropped the device to the floor, crushed it with his heel, and ran back into the museum.

Conan let him go, as much as it physically pained him to do so. He couldn't do anything else here. His watch was used up, belt expended. With any luck Megure-keibu and everyone else had already gotten here and were in the lower half of the  
building and ready to arrest any criminal that tried to sneak through.

He'd have to hope. If not, their arrest would happen another day. But at the very least, he'd gotten the boss. That was good, wasn't it?

More than he could say for his own infuriating organization, that was for sure.

Conan waited another five minutes to be sure that the snipers had left and weren't idly hanging around anymore, and then set to work.

He couldn't risk the man waking up before Kid got to him, after all.

* * *

When Kid got up to the rooftop, he'd been expecting to be greeted with his favourite critic as usual, standing next to the edge of the building and meeting him with challenging eyes.

When Kid got up to the rooftop, instead what he found had him stalling in his steps.

For a split second, poker face was wiped clean by complete and utter surprise.

Snake was laid out in the middle of the rooftop, bound in rope, with a piece of paper taped to his chest. For a split second through his shock, Kaito snorted. And then he cautiously made his way over, catalouging everything in the odd – very odd, ridiculously odd, when would they have thought to change tactics? - chance that this was a trap.

Nothing had sprung by the time he reached Snake's unconscious body, so Kid plucked the note from his chest and folded it open.

 _'I hope you don't mind the state of your present. I didn't have time or the will to cover him from head to toe in wrapping paper, so the rope is going to have to do._

 _Next time, tell someone you're being shot at, dammit._

 _Happy Christmas._

 _-4869'_

Kaito couldn't help it, he snickered. Looks like tantei-kun had a sense of humour after all.

And he probably didn't realise it, but he'd just given him the best present he could have ever asked for.

Smiling, Kid pulled out his phone to make a few calls, humming under his breath all the way.

"On the first day of Christmas, my tantei-kun gave to me~ A Snake wrapped up a-ll pret-ty."


End file.
